Apr

24

At this time of year in Oklahoma I mind our flag closely. The Stars and Stripes are tattered and torn after a windy winter. Yet I should not take it down too soon. I know the winds pulled in by the Passover moon will bring hours in the middle of the nights in the storm shelter, waiting. The whipping crack of the torn ends gives an early alarm to the slumbering but alert ear of the household head. The folks here also need the reassurance of the proud familiar guard of our Stripes furling above their doorpost. Often with these early northern tornado watches comes a cold rain, which can turn the next day to ice.

The sharp winds and vigilant nights make the milder cold sting all the same. A quick morning glance to the flag shows the strength and course of the day's wind, giving direction for the day's apparel. These cloudy days make the morning late and the evenings early, bring a mood of eternal winter. But a closer monitoring of the flag shows a few more days of southern breezes. At this sign it is time to plant the pale vegetables, which would wilt in the sun, and the rooted crops, protected from the mild cold.

Yet, the shifting winds pushed in from the south by the Resurrection moon bring a sense of purpose to the risk. My morning run often start with a bombardment from our maple's helicopter seeds scattering across our drive. Some bet early on the value of timing given by the northern winds, some later on the warmth of more assured growth but competition given by southern winds. The fierce shifting winds give the seeds their calling to randomly cover every inch of our lawn. At the end of the day's run I am greeted by a chorus of praise from a congregation of colorful tulips, underneath the doorpost banner. Their arms are raised and heads bowed, with their cups half full, shouting their gospel songs amplified by the sunrise after the night  storm. Signaling that it's time to get busy and fill my humble garden.

Here in Oklahoma I often ponder when to invest in that new flag, not too early lest it be torn and our Stars disappear with Orion, nor too late to add to the beauty of the spring rising.


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1 Comment so far

  1. acetrader on April 24, 2008 4:12 pm

    Great post, almost poetic. Reminds me of the nightly walk with the dog when all you hear are your footsteps and the moon is so bright. When I hear the wind blow and it is still cold outside I always think of a favorite Hemingway short story, "The Three Day Blow". Pour some scotch and read it!

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